I'd like to skip today's Lohan story, and I would, I really would, if only it didn't involve Ryan Seacrest. Make sense of this oddball Page Six item:

LINDSAY Lohan just can't seem to stop partying -- and, unluckily for her, word on the street is that someone may have recorded her revelry with a cellphone video camera. We can't divulge what Lohan was allegedly caught doing, but if true, it won't sit well with her younger fans. Apparently, all the naughtiness went down last week at a party at a private house in Beverly Hills that was also attended by her frenemy Paris Hilton, shipping heir Stavros Niarchos and Ryan Seacrest. At one point, the party was disrupted by a huge rat that ran into several rooms, causing revelers to scream, drop their drinks and run, until Niarchos kicked the rodent out onto a balcony. A rep for Lohan told Page Six, "I have not heard of this."

Okay, forget Lindsay Lohan. I really don't care if someone has video of her doing cocaine. Her whole life is basically video of her doing cocaine. I want to see Ryan "Idol Gives Back" Seacrest doing some fat lines while Paris Hilton sits on his lap giggling. You know what I hope? I hope Lindsay puts on a fake British accent and is all like, "You know, Paris, your singing is like bad karaoke. It's like ... cheap cruise-ship hooker music," and then I hope Ryan's all like, "Oh, Simon, is it really that bad?" and then Lindsay -- still all British -- is all like, "Ryan, you know you just want to have sex with me. In the anus," and then Ryan's like, "That's so true, Simon, I dream about the day that you and I can finally ..." and then I hope Paris falls off his lap, passed out. I hope this is all on camera and I hope it hits the Internet soon.